


Not Quite

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Bullying, Dogs, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Jean was an asshole but he's good now, Levi is compassionate, M/M, Mute - Freeform, Slow Build, Stuttering, Therapy, dog POV, speech disorder, trama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eren has a speech disorder. After years and years of torment from his fellow classmates during his youth at high school, he decided to go mute. The only "person" that he actually confides in nowadays is me, his golden retriever: Milo.Luckily, I'm always there to listen.But apparently, since Eren is now bringing home another human by the name of Levi to our shared apartment, someone else is willing to listen too.





	Not Quite

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, I met a man who has a severe Neurogenic Stuttering disorder, and to put it simply, the little time that I was able to speak with him inspired me. He's probably one of the most talented people I know; having the ability to play guitar and sing beautifully along with the rare talent of playing the drums and sing lead vocals at the same time. Luckily, he's fortunate enough to have a supportive boyfriend and an even more supportive family. However, I was saddened to hear that during his youth he was unable to join Choir due to his impairment- even though he has a wide vocal range and can sing in his full voice with no Stuttering whatsoever. (He literally has the singing voice of Freddie Mercury.)
> 
> This fic is dedicated to all who are told that they are unable to do something that they love. Don't listen to anyone who says that you are untalented without even giving you a chance. You can be amazing at anything. Be yourself unapologetically.

_“People leave imprints on our lives, shaping who we become in much the same way that a symbol is pressed into the page of a book to tell you who it comes from. Dogs, however, leave paw prints on our lives and our souls, which are as unique as fingerprints in every way.”_

― Ashly Lorenzana  


_“If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons. ”_

― James Thurber  


_”If I had known that on that day our time was near the end_  
I would have done things differently, my forever friend.  
I would have stayed right next to you deep into the night  
but I thought I’d see you in the early morning light.  
And so I said “Good night” to you as I walked in through the door  
never thinking of the time when I’d see you no more.  
But if I had known that on that day our time was at the end  
I would have done things so differently, my forever friend.”

– Sally Evans (written for Shoo-Fly)

 

Old age is something that I’ve never grown accustomed to. Whether it be my shitty joints or my body’s crushing inability to function properly, I’ve never been able to fully grasp the fact that my life was slowly coming to a close. It wasn’t like I had a horrible life over my fourteen years; sure, there was a few things that I knew I was missing out on, but I loved Eren and the human that he was constantly showing affection to. I loved them both so much, and I could only hope that they felt the same way towards me- especially now that I felt my body slowly failing me. All that was necessary for me to do now, was hold on. 

It was five o’clock, meaning that Eren was going to get home at any moment now. Usually, he would get out of work at a time around four thirty, and he would drive home to me. Occasionally, he would stop somewhere like the gas station or a bar for either gas or a quick drink. He usually did that on the nights of Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. On Tuesdays and Fridays, he would stop by the Farmer’s Market on Second Street and buy a small package of my favorite dog biscuits in the entire world; handmade by an old woman named Anita. God, I’ve always loved that woman. She always smelled like cats and reeked of the fresh meat they sold there.

Today was Friday, meaning that he would be carrying home a small paper bag full of goodies for no one but me, and I was eagerly anticipating it. I always loved the way that Eren would come home after work -the scent of the day still freshly knitted into his shirts- and tell me about everything that happened that day. He’s been learning sign language for the past few years now, and he would show me a new sign each and every day. Eren probably thought that I wouldn’t retain the information, or even acknowledge the fact that he was showing me something, but I’m practically fluent now. On the television a few days ago, I saw a man with a heavily receding hairline and a suit standing up on a podium giving a speech with a woman behind him translating everything said into sign language. I understood every single sign that she made.

See, Eren doesn’t speak- well, he always has to me, anyways, because I’m not judgeful in the worst of ways; breaking down what little confidence that he’s created throughout his life. I’ve always felt happy to be one of the only “people” he can confide in, but it also makes me sad because I know that he wants to be able to talk and sing in front of other people, but everyone judges him because of his stuttering disorder. 

I sighed into the floorboards where I was laying. All that I wanted in this world was for him to be able to speak to others like he did to me and his mate. It angered me that he wasn’t able to do such a thing because everyone immediately makes the assumption that he’s incapable when he finally _does_ have the confidence to speak. 

Suddenly, the familiar sound of feet approaching the door to our apartment had my head jerking up. I could hear the clanking of all of the metal on his key chain rustling together as he searched for the right one, and I could feel myself growing anxious as my heart continued to do somersaults in my chest. The door knob turned, proving that Eren had, in fact, not lost his key to the apartment like all of the times in the past. 

I wanted to greet him like I always did. I wanted to leap up and jog to the door with a happy tail swaying behind me like I had when I was a younger dog, but my joints just wouldn’t cooperate. No matter how much I scrambled to stand, each time I was unable to grasp at the floor with my claws and hoist myself into a standing position. This scared me. Something this drastic had never occurred before.

Finally, the door was forced open (it was a shitty door that always stuck and Eren had to ram his shoulder into it on the daily) and Eren was partially launched into the apartment by his own weight. Just like I had predicted, a brown paper bag was in his left hand while his other contained the keys. 

I wagged my tail as my best attempts at a greeting; creating a rhythmic thumping noise that carried through the apartment. I wanted him to know that I was happy to see him after a long day of an empty apartment full of thoughts that surfaced through my lonely days.

Eren noticed me lying on the floor and smiled his usual bright, white smile that could make the rainiest of days turn sunny at the flip of a switch.

“M-M-M-Milo!” He chipped, patting his hands against his knees as he leaned downwards, “C’mere bo-o-o-y! I-I-I-I brought y-you some of Anit-ta’s treats from the mar-market!” 

Panting happily, I attempted to stand with great determination, but as soon as I began to lift my hindquarters, I fell back onto the ground with a small thud. I paused, taken back. Luckily, I wasn’t a quitter and tried again with even more vigor; pushing up off of the ground only to have the same result. I was beginning to become frightened and even more so: panicked. My hips were hurting more than they have ever had in the past and my lungs were burning. Like I was inhaling smoke.

I scrambled for purchase on the wood floor for a few more seconds before Eren decided to approach me instead and sit on the floor parallel to me. He plopped down unceremoniously, acting to same as he always did, or trying to do so in the least. His worried expression was what gave him away- and when he began to cautiously rub my side I knew that he was nervous. Eren only ever did that when he was anxious.

“Milo, It-t-t’s okay, buddy-y. Calm dow-ow-own

Not willing to give up, I tried to stand again but fell; this time being caught by Eren’s strong arms instead of colliding with the cold floor. “Hey, Hey, just-t-t tak-ke it easy there for a m-m-m-minute,” He laughed, attempting to make my new incapabilities more lighthearted for both of us. Eren knew that it soothed me when he chuckled, but today was different. His small bit of laughter was fake and obviously forced, like he knew exactly what was wrong with me and he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

Wrapping his arms around my tired body, he buried his face into my mid-length golden hair and inhaled deeply- a sign that he was holding back tears while I was still trying with all of my might to stand for him .

“You’re’re okay, M-M-M-Mil-o,” He said. “You’re okay, shh. Y-Y-Y-You don’t have to stand, b-boy. You’ve been good enough; you’re ok-kay.”

I looked up at the ceiling and rested my snout on his broad shoulder, liking my chops in fear.

I wanted to be.

 

I was born in a pet store, like many dogs. I didn’t have many friends for the first month of my life- and I didn’t even get more than a week with my mother before I was put into a separate pen with no one other than an old dog who was called Jake by the store owner. I don’t remember much of my mother from my early onset life, but I do remember how cold she had been towards both me and my siblings. According to what I heard from some of the people who walked past my pen, she had previously had four litters before me; making it a grand total of five. 

Jake was also cold towards me, but he was one to acknowledge my mere existence, unlike how Mom had ignored me after my first week of life; walking away from me every time that I came to her for milk. As soon as I yipped my first bark, I was attempting to stand on my weak legs and chase the older dog around the small pen that was provided for us as our living conditions. Each and every day I felt myself growing just the slightest bit stronger, and eventually, I was chasing Jake’s bobbed tail from one end of the pen to the other. 

He was what was called a Blue Heeler German Shepherd mix- and man was he grumpy. I’d nip at his tail and he’d immediately snap at me; never biting but always coming close. Some small part of me was scared that he was eventually going to bite me in the snout or such, but the rest of me knew that he’d never do that to me. He was a grumpy old man, but he wasn’t a savage in the least. 

Jake was one of the dogs that was able to be taken out of the pen at certain times to roam the store and greet customers. Little girls were particularly fond of him and his graying fur. Unfortunately for them, he was not on sale and would never be, but that was completely fine with me. It gave me a “play-mate” of the sort to mess around with during the long days. I was told by the store owner -Jesse- that I could go out as soon as I was “potty-trained,” (two words that I did not know the meaning of for the longest time.) As soon as he told me that, I was determined to become potty-trained -whatever that meant- so I could play with the humans that came into the store practically constantly to mess around with the giant parrot named Frisco in the corner. That old parrot was mean as dirt. 

One by one, all of my siblings left the stores with people; taking them to god knows where. It frightened me slightly to not know where they would be going, but I had no control against it. Once, I managed to open the fence to my pen and chase a woman carrying one of my brothers from the store under her coat, demanding where she was taking him, and as soon as I ran out of the store making a fuss, the store owner followed me and he yelled at the woman, taking my brother back inside. Jesse called her a “thief” and a “puppy-smuggler.” I could only guess that neither of the things were good, but Jesse rewarded me with a few pieces of pepperoni off of his pizza for chasing the woman. I guess I won out.

Soon it was just me and Jake in the store, and I was about half of Jake’s size. Now, I could go out of the pen and play with the little girls who had came inside looking for a gerbil or a fish. I wanted to go home with one of them one of these times. So every time that the door swung open, the bell rang, and a little girl came bouncing inside with bright eyes and pigtails, I made it my destiny to make them smile. Only, one of the times that the door opened, a tall man with brunette hair decided that I was the perfect companion for himself.

Jesse had opened up Frisco’s cage and I had decided that it was best for me to stay inside of my pen and sleep instead of deciding to antagonize the old bird. While he was in a cage, I could do it for hours and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. But after that cage was opened on certain days of the week for a few hours, I hid in my pen against the wall so he wouldn't be able to see me and attack. His talons were really sharp- and I had learned that the hard way.

The owner had greeted the customer like he always did, Jake let out a gruff bark as a greeting, and I perked my head up. What if it was a little boy or girl willing to take me home? I needed to get out of that cage immediately!

 

I barked an order for Jesse to let me out of the pen, but he only shushed me. He was only interested in the human in front of him; a man that towered over me at heights of around six feet, a messy head of brunette hair, tan skin and vibrant eyes. He had strong pheromones too, which was probably why Jesse was talking much different than what he usual did to me and other customers. Usually, I saw only men “flirt” like this with the female gender, so this was a change of pace- and not a bad one either. I was tired of seeing females comment on Jesse’s muscles and was happy to find that something had changed.

Barking again, popped my head over the edge of the pen in hopes of gaining Jesse’s attention. I felt bad for interrupting his courting attempts, but I needed to be let out. I liked this man that brought upon a change of pace to the usual life I lived at the pet store. 

Eventually Jesse left his post behind the countertop and let me out, grumbling something about me being a “total cock-block,” before he asked the brunette male for “his number,” which confused me. Did humans have certain numbers? Like the serial numbers on the back of the pet food containers behind Frisco’s cage? Were they assigned numbers at birth that they had to tell everyone?

The other boy didn’t speak, however. He only shook his head with a small chuckle leaving his throat. He looked slightly lost; not responding to what the other potential mate had said with his own words and capable tongue. All of the people I had ever met were more than happy to express their thoughts and opinions with sounds known as letters and words crafted into eight parts of speech. He only pointed to his throat and made a few strange motions with his hands; pulling out a small book from his back pocket and a pencil. 

Writing quickly, he quickly scribbled something down and held it up for Jesse. No one had ever taught me how to read, so I was angered by my inability to read what he had written down for Jesse to read. I jogged up to him and sat down directly where he would walk if he were to go forwards. I wanted to catch his attention.

“Oh,” the store owner suddenly said, “You’re mute- I’m sorry, _Eren_ , for trying to start a conversation with you like that,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, um, is there anything I can help you with today?” I could taste the nervousness that was pouring off of him on the very back of my tongue. It was bitter.

Eren shook his head and looked down at me with a small smile. His eyes absolutely lit up as he crouched down to scratch behind my ears and I knew that he was enjoying my presence already by how happy he was beginning to smell. I liked his happy scent. 

Jesse laughed, “That’s one of the newer members, here. Just thirteen weeks old.”

I barked in conformation. There was a calendar above my pen so I was able to quickly learn how the weeks worked and what days were which, including the order in which the names to the days went. I felt incredibly smart from being able to learn such a thing at a young age, I was lucky to have Jesse mutter the days under his breath as he crossed them off with a large, red marker; giving me sounds to certain things written down on paper. Like how Monday was pronounced “mun-dAy” and not my original assumption of “moon-dai.”

“He’s for sale, too. All of his siblings have been sold but him; shame cuz he’s a great dog,” Jesse crossed his arms with an amused smile, “Ya thinkin’ of getting a dog?”

Eren thought for a moment, looking at me thoughtfully before nodding. He gingerly reached for me and lifted me from the ground, being much more careful that anyone else who had ever been inside of the store before him. 

Holding me out in front of himself as he observed me; his lips split into a bright grin once again, and he muttered out a name in which I could call my own from that day forward:

“M-M-Milo.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Stuttering disorders work diffrently depending on those effected. For one person, the letter _s_ can be the hardest letter to pronounce, and for others it can only be certain words like "banana" or "numerously." I personally do not have a stutter myself, so if I do say anything that is inaccurate from what I found through reasearch, please correct me!


End file.
